Never again
by Valter Oxenstierna
Summary: Ivan mourns the death of those who did not need to die


"She didn't need to die" His hands gripped his scarf, and a tear slid down his pale face. "I should have done something. Anything." His voice was breaking, and more tears came with every breath. "I'm sorry Nicholas. I'm sorry I couldn't keep them safe" He looked up at the sky, and heavy snow fell onto his already heavy shoulders.

He shook. His body crumbled onto the blood covered floor, and his fingers laced around a tiny hand, and he closed his eyes tightly.

Her red hair lays around her face, her bright blue eyes glazed over in death. He opened his eyes, to look down at her, and his chest became as tight as the cage of a body confining his soul.

"I'm sorry Anastasia. I'm sorry" He held her hand tightly, and his other hand looped around a thin golden chain that rested on her neck. The chain led to an intricate key. Gold with green and blue jewels. His gloved thumb ran over it, and he looked to Alexei. His head lay on Nicholas' chest, and his hand held a small music box tightly in his hand.

He reached out, and with utter caution he took the box from the child's hand. He held the key up to the box, and inserted it into a small opening. The box had the same blue and green jewels encrusted on the rim and lid, and the gold shone through the small veil of the Romanov family's' blood.

His fingers shook as he turned the key, and the small lid opened. A small platform rose up from inside the box, and a tune he knew as Anastasia's lullaby wove it's way through his ears. His shoulders shook violently, but he held his tongue to listen to the sweet music.

Two small figures, one wearing a long pink dress and another a black suit spun around in a never ending dance. Their hands held each other closely, and the voice of a small child echoed in his skull.

It was Alexei who tried to get Anastasia and his sisters out of the palace before the white Army arrived. He tried to do what Ivan couldn't. But in the end they ended in the same place; dead, laying in a small room with no roof as snow covered their bloody bodies.

When the song ended, the platform went down and Ivan dropped the key back around little Anastasia's neck. He tore his eyes away from her, and the violet orbs fell on Nicholas and Alexandra. Their hands were clasped together, and between them rested innocent Alexei. Olga and Marie were off a little ways, but the eldest sister's hand was reaching out to her family as the bullets flew into her body.

"They did not need to die" Ivan closed his eyes, and his hand clutched the music box. "They were children. Innocent children" Ivan stood up, and he looked down at the scene before him. His knees were red from kneeling in the family's blood, gloves and coat torn from trying to save them.

The blood of his people, children and mothers and fathers, flowed at his feet and his heart strings nearly split.

"I'm sorry" He whispered. He backed away, still holding the music box in his hand. He would keep it, as a memory of the youngest children who gave him hope. He would not take the key. Knowing if he listened to the song again he would be overwhelmed with sadness and the walls around his heart would fall once again.

He walked from the room. Closing the door to that memory and locking it for ever. He would never go back to that room. He would never see their faces or hear their voices again. His heart ached at the idea of not hearing Anastasia's laughter, or never again feeling Alexei tugging on his coat. Another tear fell from his eye, but he wiped it away.

"No more bloodshed" He whispered. He walked down the thin hallway of his mind, and he tucked the music box into his pocket. As he came to a stairwell, he dared himself to look back at the door.

Melted snow mixed with blood seeped from the crack at the floor, and Ivan swallowed hard.

"No more tears" He turned to the stairs, and he walked. With each one he felt his shoulders grow heavier. His strength weaning. He closed his eyes and leaned against the wall, and looked up toward a flickering candle. "No more sorrow" He whispered, and he opened a door at the top of the stair case.

* * *

><p>Ivan opened his eyes, and sat up against the head rest of his bed. His face is sweating, his hands clammy and his chest heaving. Salt stained his lips from his tears, and he coughed.<p>

"Never again" He reached into the pocket of his night clothes, and pulled out a small music box. "Never shall I listen to him again" The name stung his throat and he heard the man's evil laugh. Those dark eye burned his own, and the scent of death and bile filled the room. "Rasputin"


End file.
